


Stray Snowflakes

by LittleLinor



Category: Cardfight!! Vanguard
Genre: (Mamoru is present in Spirit), D/s, Kumi Is There But Has Too Little Lines :(, M/M, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 04:37:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13263846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLinor/pseuds/LittleLinor
Summary: Chrono's plans for New Years Eve involved closing shop early and going home, not being confronted about his love life.A sequel toFrom View





	Stray Snowflakes

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [From View](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13256307) by [LittleLinor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLinor/pseuds/LittleLinor). 



> I wanted a sequel from Chrono's point of view, so... happy late new year???

“Chrono,” Tokoha calls as she walks into Card Capital 2, with no other greeting, “do you have _any idea_ why my brother asked me to tell you he supports you in your decision to take responsibility?”  
Thankfully, Chrono had _just_ put down the can of coffee he was sipping as he checked the inventory on the computer, because he would have choked on it had she come in a second earlier.  
Instead, he just chokes on air, and puts the can down on the counter before he can spill it with his coughing.  
Tokoha just waits for him to be done, unimpressed and unsympathetic.  
“… so?” she asks once he's breathing properly again.  
“I—well you know I've been thinking about trying the clan leader test again for a while—”  
“Yeah and _that_ 's nothing new. There's something else, isn't there?” she asks, squinting at him.  
“It… it's private,” he finally admits, deflating. Why is he so bad at hiding things?  
“Oh, is _that_ so?” she teases, before her eyes suddenly widen. “Taking responsibility— _please_ tell me you're not getting married.”  
Chrono almost chokes again.  
“No! I mean—it's too early for that!”  
“… but you've considered it,” she says, disbelief on her face.  
“No—yes—I'm not against the idea, okay? But it _is_ too early for that and _that's not the problem here_ ,” he whines, wondering why the universe suddenly hates him.  
“I think it's a wonderful idea!”  
“Kumi, not you too,” he sighs, leaning his face against the counter.  
“I didn't think you were the family kind of man,” Tokoha muses.  
“First of all: how. Second, _can we stop discussing my hypothetical marriage_???”  
“Please don't tease him too much,” Shin says as he walks back in from the back room with a large box in his hands, “I need him coherent enough to finish his job.”  
“Thanks Shin,” Chrono sighs, going back to his work.  
“Look, I'm just wondering why he thought it was important enough to tell him like this instead of wait for the next time we go to the branch for an event or something,” Tokoha says.  
“… I don't know. Ibuki's his friend, maybe they talked about stuff?”  
“But he already knew you were dating, right?”  
“Yeah.” He sighs. “Anyway, just. You don't have to if you don't want to, but if you _want_ to pass back the message, just tell him. I'm trying my best.”  
She eyes him with a raised eyebrow, but doesn't comment.  
“… fine. I'll do that.” And then she smirks. “So, do you still call him 'Ibuki' in private too?”  
“ _That_ 's private!”  
She grins.  
“So you don't, huh?”  
“I'm not saying anything!”

Thankfully, despite the distractions and embarrassment, he still manages to finish all his work on time for the shop's early closure for New Year's Eve.  
His shopping's already done and safely waiting for him in the fridge and pantry—what he hasn't already prepared, anyway—so all he has to do at this point is head home and wait for Mikuru and Ibuki.  
For years, as he was growing up, the magic of the New Year had seemed to pass him by, something that belonged to Other People, full of promises he didn't believe in and unbroken families. Mikuru had tried her best, but he felt guilty for the effort she clearly put into making the celebration happen, and praying felt fake and bitter when he didn't really believe his parents were ever coming back. Hoping, even for more realistic things, felt like expecting too much. And what he _could_ achieve, he'd only achieve through his own actions.  
But in recent years, something had changed. Maybe it was growing closer to Mikuru again; maybe it was witnessing the power of human hopes, when they'd all joined him to defeat someone who'd wanted the entire world to just give up and dream for eternity. For the first time in years, he'd found himself sending out prayers with all his heart, like a vow to make the impossible happen. Because the world was beautiful. Because people, scary as they are, could do incredible things. Because—he wasn't alone.  
Mikuru, standing at his side, had once more truly felt like the family he remembered from his early childhood, when they'd _both_ been kids even if she was already taking care of him. But now, they'd faced adversity together, and it came with a new strength, and deeper roots, roots they'd nurtured themselves.  
And now, slowly, someone else is allowing himself to be drawn into Chrono's circle, into his family, and every step of that building makes Chrono's heart ring with excitement.  
He's infinitely grateful to Mikuru for just taking it in stride and being the one to offer to invite him along for the night.

Ibuki's the first to arrive, about an hour after him, while he's waiting for some of his dishes to simmer. Chrono meets him at the door; the shopping bag he's holding is promptly taken from him, and Chrono makes the most of Mikuru's absence by reaching up and pulling him down for a kiss, before he even closes the door.  
Ibuki gasps against his lips; he takes his chance to slide his fingers into his hair and kiss a little more insistently, tender. And in his arms, Ibuki relaxes, his hands coming to hold on to his apron.  
“… welcome home?” Chrono whispers, happy and half-teasing, when they break away from each other.  
“Does it count if I don't live here?” Ibuki asks, a little breathless.  
“You're welcome here whenever you want, so… I think it counts.”  
Ibuki doesn't answer, and instead hides his face in Chrono's hair, making him laugh and wrap his arms tighter around him.  
“The door…” Ibuki murmurs, nervous yet apparently unwilling to let go himself.  
“Right. Let me close it.”  
He closes the door, then reaches to take off Ibuki's scarf, then his coat, hanging all of them to dry from the few aimless snowflakes that had caught on to it.  
His fingers catch the shape of the collar through Ibuki's shirt as he slides the coat off, and his heart gives a little jolt.  
Of course it's there. Ibuki wouldn't have taken it off even if it was easy, the way he knows him, and it definitely _isn't_ easy, the metal ring designed to _stay_. He'd hesitated and agonised over his choice before offering it, worried that it was too much: too controlling, too heavy, too _assertive_. But he'd wanted—he'd wanted to give him something _solid_ , something that spelled _I'm here, no matter what_. Something that hopefully wouldn't break and fall away the way Chrono's last (inadvertent) mark had. And judging from Ibuki's reaction, he'd made the right choice.  
So of course it's there. But _feeling_ it, just sitting casually under his clothes, brings a rush of pride and excitement that he hasn't quite gotten used to yet, even after two months.  
In a way, part of him hopes that he never quite will. He doesn't want to take it for granted, in this world where every scrap of love and hope he has is something he or others have fought for.  
He wants that excitement to keep living in his heart.  
Ibuki notices, of course; he flushes a little, and lets his shoulders drop a little after Chrono takes the coat away from him, as if expecting his hands to go right back to that spot—and they do, tracing the metal's shape under the fabric of his shirt once Chrono's put the coat away.  
“… Anjou saw it the other day,” he murmurs, sounding half proud and half guilty.  
Chrono blinks.  
“Oh. _That_ 's what it was about.”  
“Hm?”  
“Ah, nothing—he just passed on a cryptic message. It's nothing bad, though, I was just… a little embarrassed,” he adds with a slight wince at the memory of Tokoha's teasing.  
“Do you mind?”  
“No. That's _your_ choice. And besides, he's an important friend to you, right?”  
Ibuki nods.  
“So it's okay,” Chrono continues, pushing hair out of his face with a smile. And then, because he can't hold back his curiosity: “So did he find out by accident, or did you show him?”  
“… I showed him,” Ibuki says, so quietly that Chrono almost laughs.  
It's flattering and exciting and makes him more happy than it should. That Ibuki wanted to _show it off_ wakes something in him, powerful and blissful. Something like a flame burning with confidence and affection.  
He reaches up and kisses him again, and this time his fingers slide under the edge of his shirt's collar, feeling the metal underneath. And it feels right, like something falling into place, just like having him here on this night, just like him talking casually and naturally with Mikuru, just like the first time he fell asleep on Chrono's shoulder.  
It feels right, like one of the stones in the house Chrono's trying to build settling snugly into place to support the whole.  
“Come on,” he murmurs when he breaks away, “help me finish this stuff. Mikuru won't be long now.”  
Ibuki nods, and a minute later, he's getting an apron tied around his waist too.


End file.
